


What was will always be

by IsisKitsune



Series: Beautiful Lie [1]
Category: Blade (Movie Series)
Genre: Angst, Biting, Blood, F/M, Fear of self, Gen, Internal Monologue, Memories, Mild Sexual Content, Paranoia, Post Movie, Vampire Turning, slight self harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-22
Updated: 2013-01-22
Packaged: 2017-11-26 10:12:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/649471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IsisKitsune/pseuds/IsisKitsune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He didn't know when the warning signs started, but now Hannibal is fearing the Cure wasn't as permanent as they all thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What was will always be

**Author's Note:**

> I'm posting this as part of a series because I have more ideas for this 'verse/storyline and I'm not sure if they're going to be in line enough to post a multi-chaptered story. Unsure when/if it will continue on.
> 
> **Self harm warning due to events within. Hannibal would rather harm himself than his partner. (That's all the spoiling I'm going to do to explain the warning

Hannibal wasn’t sure when exactly it had started but, once he noticed it, he knew he was royally fucked. And not the good kind of way either, the average everyday ‘Hannibal King’ kind of way, which meant fucked, up the ass, probably with something in regards to a fenced post… Damn, he’s surprised no one’s noticed him walking funny he was fucked so bad by this little ‘epiphany’ that he should have fucking notices AGES ago! Okay, he’s just getting ahead of himself and silently (which, _fuck you Whistler I can be quiet,_ doesn’t happen often) freaking out about it. _Okay, calm, cool, collected. Got to figure out when this started. It wasn’t right after I was ‘cured’… right? I mean, yeah, lingering urges but, fuck, **you** try living off something for that long and not crave tasting it again. That totally wasn’t a sign, right? _ Hannibal’s forehead tapped softly against the wall as he sighed. This is what he’d been reduced to, a pacing, caged animal? Though wandering around your room ranting inside your own head doesn’t exact translate to caged, right? Well, not unless you’ve locked yourself in, and kept yourself there for the last, Hannibal didn’t even need to look at the clock on the small table, he knew he’d been in there a good 6 hours. He did gulp and bring a shaky hand to his face, because of the reason why he knew, he could feel the sun setting, unseen, over the horizon. He was so fucked… did he honestly think ‘fence post’ earlier? ‘cause, yeah, this was way beyond fence post fucked. He had to figure out when it started…

-

Zoe? It had to be Zoe… The instant Danica had her brought into the room, he knew. Even before she started whispering sick sweet nothings in his ear, he could smell her. The mortified look had nothing, okay little but not exactly nothing, to do with the threat of turning him. He already knew he was turning back, the instant they brought in a live, warm, breathing human into the room with him. He knew something had gone wrong with the cure.

-

Hannibal’s head tapped against the wall, harder. He didn’t know how he could smell her, practically taste her that day and NOT have the silver they’d used to weaken the vampires when they’d saved him affect him in any way. Lifting his head up at the sudden thought, he turned and grabbed for one of the several silver blades in his hunting gear. He gripped the handle in one hand while lifting his arm, exhaling heavily as he raised the blade before thinking better of it. Whistler would know something was up, not that she was so blind as to not know something was already going on but still. Instead he wrapped his hand around the exposed blade. No damage yet, but the contact only should have been enough, had been when… but it wasn’t. Not even a stinging, other than the instinctive urge to pull away from the razor sharp edge. For good measure, he winced as he closed his hand a little too tight. Pain, stinging, no burning as it had before the cure. It took his a few minutes to realize he was just staring at the blood now dripping down his cut fingers, automatically bringing them to his lips. It was the taste that brought back the memory, that no it was way before Zoe that this started…

-

They both ended up blaming the booze afterward but during it was one hundred percent ‘just need to blow off some adrenaline, wanna fuck?’ casual sex after they got done celebrating taking down one of the biggest nests they’d seen. Neither of them thought anything of how easily Hannibal had manhandled her into the bed, they were both hunters and kept themselves as slight but strong as possible, though Abby had pulled away the first time he’s pressed his lips to her throat. They both winced in silent understanding and Hannibal had stayed as far away from major veins as possible during the night. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him, he knew that the moment she let him press her into the mattress without even a nervous shift, it was just ingrained training. Hell, he knew he’d probably react the same way she did if the roles were reversed.

He remembered the growing urge as the act went on, how she became warmer under him, around him, as they moved together… He kept swallowing, trying to keep the urge at bay, making Abby whine when his rhythm kept faltering when he’s nervously concentrate on brushing his tongue over his teeth. Old habits had him making sure he wouldn’t end up biting his lip with fangs that weren’t, well shouldn’t, be there anymore. “Hannibal,” Abby had gasped, arching her head back to expose her throat and he had to shake his head when he realized how close he was leaning toward it, already intending to bite. Instead, he clutched the back of her head and shifted her to keep her face tucked into his chest as he thrust faster, moaning at how tightly she started gripping him as he panted for breath. He heard her moan against his chest and he couldn’t stop the urge anymore… they were both lucky he’d turned into his arm and latched on to the first available source of blood instead of trying to attack the woman now clutching him just as tight as he was her.

 “Old habit” they’d both blamed when Abby saw the blood on his lips and the bite on his arm. It’d only been 3 months since he’d been ‘cured’. Abby had understood, or at least agreed that that had to be the explanation when she’d seen that it wasn’t fangs that made the normal teeth imprint while she’d bandaged it. It still didn’t stop them both from taking another 3 months until either had been comfortable enough to attempt another try. If the same ‘habit’ had caused the same outcome, Hannibal didn’t mention it, he just kept his arm out of sight and been relieved when Abby had returned to her room instead of staying the night.

-

Hannibal sighed, all he’d done was make a cold shower look REALLY appealing… too bad he didn’t want to risk leaving his room. Abby had to know something was up, scratch that “Not an idiot”, would be pounding on his door soon enough. Probably threatening him with dishes if he was late for dinner, whether she admitted it or not that girl had some old fashion spite to her that only a mother can teach her daughter. Hannibal sat on his bed and huffed out a sigh, suddenly wishing Blade hadn’t gone AWOL after the whole Daystar thing. He would be able to tell, wouldn’t he? If Hannibal was… was, going back to before. He would be able to tell, would give them some sort of warning. Wouldn’t he? Hell, the Daywalker had boasted a few times he could SMELL a vampire at 50 yards. Hannibal’s back stiffened; maybe that’s why the man had been so cold toward him. Maybe that was why Abby had taken a shine to the other hunter. Maybe she already knew, and was just riding this out until the first time he shows fang. Maybe she was just using him, having some fun, until he finally turns back and then she’d put a bullet in his head or a stake in his chest.

Hannibal shook his head and gulped, okay cold shower was definitely no longer needed. Whistler would never do that. He wasn’t just some random relapsing junky, he was a Nightstalker, a hunter. She knew that before he was… cured. He never wanted that life, never asked for it, and he’d fight every way he could to keep whatever humanity he had left exactly where it was. His hands ran over his legs toward his knees. _I need to tell her. If only to keep them safe, to warn them of what to watch for._ ‘What to watch for’ yeah right. How the fuck he hadn’t noticed this shit BEFORE now just proved how fucking dense he was when he wanted to be off in his own little completely human world, and fuck anything with fangs. Wait, rephrase, kill not fuck, that’s what got him in trouble in the first place. Not that he KNEW if he still had his fangs or not, but that’s beside the point.

Hannibal’s head popped up at the sudden memory, Sommerfield explaining that regardless of the ‘cure’ he would retain some of his vampire-like qualities. Like the ability to take a hit, ‘cause fuck he never would have survived this long getting knocked around as much as he did without that. His fangs… She’d said, specifically, that they would remain. Now that he’d thought about it, it’d been maybe a week after that he’d been unable to extend them. Sommerfield had mentioned something about ‘over-developed muscles’ and ‘atrophied’, honestly he hadn’t given two shits about any of it, to him it only meant he didn’t have to deal with having the equipment or drive to take out a chunk of soft tissue with those things. But now it meant he could… he still had the damn razor sharp things lodged in his head, how he hadn’t used them he didn’t know. Just the thought of what could happen if they ever did, when he was with Abby, or tucking Zoe in at night. When he helped Abby bandage a cut or stitch a wound, when Zoe came rushing up with a paper cut bleeding all over the place because damn the poor girl had thin blood…

That did it, Hannibal suddenly stalked out of the room, he had to tell Abby. He had to warn her of what might happen, unfortunately, soon.


End file.
